


Grave Dirt

by beetlesacquired



Series: Prompts [3]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Kinda depressing, Writing Prompt, at first at least, vague writing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-03
Updated: 2017-11-03
Packaged: 2019-01-29 02:51:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12621508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beetlesacquired/pseuds/beetlesacquired
Summary: Prompt: There’s a guy who visits the cemetery every night and lies on the ground by a grave.  One night it’s pouring, but the routine hasn’t changed.Inspired by King of Carrot Flowers by unhappy_turtle here on Ao3





	Grave Dirt

Lilia had seen many people at the cemetery on her walk home. She had seen people cry and pray, some left flowers, some simply came for some goddamn peace and quiet. She had never, however, seen anyone walk up to a gravestone, freshly dug at that, and lie down on top of it like they were sunbathing.

A very small funeral was held and the boy showed up the night after that. He lied there foe hours; from sunset all the way up until dawn sometimes. Lilia wondered when he had time to sleep.

Lilia admired the boy’s dedication. On the few nights where it was particularly cold or the mosquitos were biting, his back was still in the dirt, his eyes turned up towards the stars. Rain was where Lilia drew the line though.

Her raincoat and umbrella did absolutely nothing to shield her from the storm. Lilia had put her phone in a sandwich bag, but it was safe to say that her book was thoroughly ruined. Lilia stopped in her tracks on the sidewalk when she saw the familiar lump of a body in the cemetery. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” she muttered, making a split decision to go and make sure the guy wasn’t dead. It’s not like she could get any more soaked.

He had hid eyes closed. Not seeing any other viable option, Lilia nudged the boy in the side with her foot. He immediately started, sitting up and squinting against the hard downfall. “Oh, thank god,” Lilia sighed. “I thought you were dead.” He scowled, looking around. “It’d be a good place for it, wouldn’t it?” Normally, she’d laugh, but the mud clinging to the inside of her socks was putting a damper (no pun intended) on her mood. “Not really. The most convenient place to die would probably be the morgue since that’s where they take your body right after for an autopsy. Even then, you’d still have to be cremated or buried whatever, which takes a long time and there’d be an awful lot of paperwork so in all honesty, it’s less hassle for everyone if you didn’t die at all.” The boy stared at her for a long moment, looking incredibly out of place all of the sudden. Then, “Have you ever considered working for a suicide hotline? Because I personally think you’d be excellent at that.” Lilia rolled her eyes, tapping her foot impatiently and creating a mud splatter. “What are you doing?” she finally asked. The boy flopped back from his sitting position. “Laying,” he said.

“It’s raining.”

“I hadn’t noticed.”

“Well, are you going to get up?”

“Not in the foreseeable future.”

Lilia sighed and placed her still open umbrella on the ground, carefully putting her bag inside of it to keep the dirt away. The boy looked at her curiously until his expression turned to one of complete shock when Lilia laid down in the cemetery right next to him. It was his turn to ask her what she was doing. “Keeping you company,” she answered and, in her peripheral vision, saw the boy scowl. “I don’t want to talk,” he said petulantly. Lilia scoffed.

“You young peoples. You think keeping company means talking, but it doesn’t. It just means not being alone.”

For the first time in what felt like a long time, the boy smiled.


End file.
